You are not the person you were anymore. 

The feelings are familiar, feelings of hopelessness and despair. The feelings empty your chest and rip it of the warmth that came with thoughts of her. You are not who you were because of useless things done with no thought, no fear of the consequences, no fear of the future.

Kim Minjoo.

Chaewon knew it was because of Kim Minjoo. 

Ever since she met Kim Minjoo, she was filled with wretched and wicked love, destroying her from the inside.

It’s because of the heartbreak that these feelings are now Kim Chaewon—the longing for someone she’ll never have, the utter hopelessness of love—the heartbreak—they are her, just as her mortal body and fickle mind are.

Their relationship — whatever it was — with Kim Minjoo started as a spark. A brilliant flame eclipsing the rest of the world from her sight. So incredibly enticing that she couldn’t see the ordeal that would follow.

She’s stuck in the same place. Slowly burning through the remains of her love, unresolved emotions smoulder.

When will you reach your breaking point?

It’s been like this ever since that night. The warmth of the sun disappears as she falls from orange and yellow hues. Unwanted emotions compound the longer she’s suspended in the sky, wondering when she’ll hit the ground. 

“Chaewon?”

It’s Minjoo. No, her mind is messing with her. It sounds like Minjoo. No, it doesn’t. What if it was Minjoo? You would kiss her again, wouldn’t you? The fact that you exist is sick. She’s not yours, is she? Why did you kiss her? Why did you it up? It’s all your fault, isn’t it?

Is it?

It’s not Minjoo. It doesn’t sound like her. Minjoo wouldn’t be up this late. 

Even if she was, she wouldn’t call out for you.

Chaewon sighs. It’s hot. Sweat forms on her brow the longer she stays in her car. She rolls down a window when a shadow is cast over her. For some reason, the thought of having to interact with someone else is repulsive. It’s almost disgust. Then she sees the face casting shadows on her. 

“Yena unnie? What are you doing here?”

“I should be the one asking you that...”

Yena looks concerned. She reaches for the lock on the door, opening it with a click. Yena guides her to stand. The temperature difference is stark. Chaewon feels a slight breeze across her cheeks, her legs are uncomfortable in a stretch. 

“How long have you been here?”

“Uh, just a while.”

“Oh, well… Did you get what you wanted?”

 “Hm?”

Right, it’s a convenience store. Not the one she met Minjoo for a second time at, though. Maybe that would’ve been a better place to pass time at. She glances at the building for a moment, the neon lights hurt her eyes a little. “Yeah… I just had some ramen, that’s all.”

Yena reminds her of Minjoo, sometimes. They met because of Minjoo. Minjoo wanted her friends to be friends with each other. She thought they’d get along with ease. 

“Ah, then… Get home quickly, okay? It’s really late. And tomorrow’s not even the weekend,”

Why can’t you stop thinking of her? Again and again, memories of her slip through. Her fingers fidget in the air, grasping at false semblances.

“I can give you a lift if you want.”

You might see her. It’s ridiculous—it’s too late—it’s dark outside and you hardly bring any light, but you might see her. Yena is reluctant and doesn’t want to bother you but it’s not like you have anything better to do, right? 

Chaewon rolls all the windows down for the heat to escape, yellow streetlights illuminate the path she knows better than the back of her hand. 

It’s late, it’s dark outside. So Yena insists Chaewon stays the night at her apartment instead: you know it’s because you look like , right? She didn’t want Chaewon to be driving this late in the night–her apartment isn’t exactly close–the streets are empty—pointless reasons, whatever.

You might see her. 

You might catch a glimpse of her in the morning. 

And then?

Then what?

What are you going to do?

Maybe you’ll let it all burn. Set it ablaze. Maybe you’ll lash out, who knows?

Chaewon decides to stay. Yena’s apartment is just like her, lively and bright — nothing like Minjoo’s, though. It’s the first night of many nights spent lively and bright.

It is a bit annoying that the woman stays up for her “gamer’s pride”—still, it’s amusing when Yena tries to keep her curses down out of consideration for her. 

It’s an amusing night. 

You can’t seem to forget that Minjoo is two floors away, though.

{—•—}

Her songs play everywhere.

They play on the radio when she goes to work. They play at the party her coworkers throw to celebrate their manager’s engagement. They play in each store she enters, in the clubs she wants to forget her at, in Yena’s car whenever they go out, constantly. Her songs keep playing each hour of the day.

It’s like her voice is on an endless loop. Like a broken record. Over, and over, and over again. 

The most popular one, of course, is a love song. 

It’s about being thankful for the one you love. For the unwavering support. For the times your love lit up the world when it was pitch black. She wishes for an everlasting love lasting forever, beyond the end of time itself. 

Is it about her?

Is it about Minjoo? Could it be? Did her girlfriend write the lyrics herself? Chaewon never bothered to check. Still, she couldn’t ignore the emotions in her voice, even if she wanted to.

Did she think of Minjoo as she recorded it? 

Was her love greater than yours?

She probably wrote the lyrics herself. She poured her heart and soul out for the song. For her love. And you; you want to take that away from her. How sick. Disgusting. She’s found popularity after years of struggle and you want the sole reason for her success all to yourself. 

Why are you so selfish? Why couldn’t you love her in silence? A part of you hates that her songs are playing everywhere, right? Right? A part of you hates hearing them every hour of the day. A part of you is cursing her success every single time you hear her voice. 

You wonder how she’s doing. If she’s relishing in her lover’s happiness. You wonder if she loves hearing her voice everywhere, all the time. Minjoo’s not even thinking of you anymore. She didn’t need to. You’re left in the ashes. 

You’re the worst.  

You don’t deserve someone like her. 

Oh, but Minjoo? She’s the worst. You can’t even begin — Chaewon brings her fingers to her forehead. Red marks form on the skin, she closes her eyes. 

How many more evenings will she spend like this? Why is it taking so long to erase the mistakes of a single night? 

Yena’s brightness doesn’t reach her heart, even after all these days. She wants to erase the night from her mind, but every moment is spent thinking of her and the repercussions of her actions. 

Chaewon isn’t sure about anything anymore. Even if the feelings she feels are real or not.

A love song is playing. The same one. Of ing course. 

Yena wants to sing it one last time to end their evening together perfectly.

The woman ushers her to stand, a mike is shoved into her fist and she sighs. The same notes begin for the third time tonight. Disco lights pour into the cramped space. Love songs flow in the air, she knows the lyrics by heart now, against her own will.

Again and again, over and over. Images of her flash on the screen before you.  

Embers at your skin with thoughts of her. You sway with the music. Melodies and beats of love crushing the space of your heart. Like smoke, you move. 

Yena smiles at you, you smile back. Pressure closes in. Your steps are unstable, easily swayed by the currents, you’re feeling disturbed. You’re feeling volatile. 

Set it ablaze. 

What dance will you dance, Kim Chaewon?

When will the fires in your chest fade?

{—•—}

It’s been three weeks since she saw Minjoo.

Eunbi left the country three weeks ago. The woman had insisted the week before that Minjoo and her came to the airport to see her off. Four weeks ago, Chaewon had no problem with that. If only she knew of the mistakes that would follow. It was just a week. A week between the party and Eunbi’s leaving.

A week was all it took for doubt to take control of your heart. Before you knew it, fear and anxiety were chipping away at your love. Your love for Kim Minjoo, and your love, Kim Minjoo. Your love, Kim Minjoo, is the worst. 

Four weeks, a month. It felt too distant to recall the little details, but a month had passed since you felt those soft lips on yours. The faint scent of jasmine and smooth skin caressing your cheeks. Red wine and chocolate on the tip of your tongue. It’s been a month since her warmth was yours. 

Why can’t you forget? It’s despicable. You’re abhorrent. 

You’re sick. 

What did you expect from the kiss?

Was it wrong to expect something?

Was your love not obvious enough?

The week after the kiss was spent with a heavy heart. You didn’t know what to think of it, the usual thoughts came and went: It was all a mistake, it was wrong, you acted out of impulse, you’re so, so sorry.

But it was the last thing that made you feel alive. It felt right. Like you were meant to be.

Minjoo didn’t know what to think of it either, did she?

The week after the kiss had been filled with silence. Of course, you told her you’d be busy that week. Maybe she being considerate, but you couldn’t help the despair and regret. 

Seven days were spent tracing all your actions, wondering what your love felt, trying to make out her thoughts, imagining she was thinking of you the way you were of her. 

What would you say when you saw her? What would she tell you? 

You can’t forget, she kissed you back. 

You were the one holding back. It had to mean something, it had to. 

They took Minjoo’s car to the airport. One of them drove on the way there, the other on the way back. Eunbi didn’t notice the tension in the car. You managed to keep yourself composed, but did Minjoo? 

You don’t know. You can’t remember. 

Everything is vague and fuzzy seeing through the flames. 

When you first saw her that day, three weeks ago, Minjoo acted like nothing happened. Nothing changed. She had to: you were in Eunbi’s presence, after all. It was silent on the way there, it was silent on the way back.

You said your goodbyes, Eunbi told you not to worry so much and you watched as she walked away. The sound of your heart was deafening. You wondered if Minjoo noticed. You wished she did. But you never get what you want.

Why did Minjoo not act any different? Why was she acting like nothing happened? You asked yourself over and over again for the past three weeks to get no answers. 

Why did she kiss you back?

Why were you the one holding back?

You didn’t bother being subtle with your displeasure. You knew she could tell. Your cold voice turning down every attempt at conversation. Looking away each time she tried to look into your eyes. You hated it. She was acting fake in front of you.

Minjoo ignored everything. The kiss she left on your lips, the arms that held you close, the week you spent tortured by thoughts of her, your annoyance. She smiled at you like it was nothing. 

You are nothing to her. She couldn’t address it and at her gross indifference, neither could you. She didn’t want to face it. She regretted it. Your love wasn’t good enough.

Why?

That evening, did her gaze waver as it tried to meet yours? Were her sentences curt and insecure? Did she regret kissing you? What did she want from you, after all? 

You don’t know, can’t remember. 

She’s the worst. You never spoke to her after that.

Three weeks ago, Minjoo set fire to your love. You wanted to lash out. You wanted to be furious. You want to be furious. What would you do if you saw her? 

Will you set it ablaze? Will you incinerate the last of your love until nothing is left? You want the flames to hurt. You were naive to expect anything from her.

She was just playing with you. It’s just that. It’s just that. What other explanation could there be? Why couldn’t she at least acknowledge it? Why did she kiss you? Even that would’ve satiated your pathetic heart. Why else would she be indifferent to your love?

Minjoo is the worst. How could you love someone like her?

But—but. You’re in love with her. She’s too good for you, you don’t deserve someone like Kim Minjoo. In the pits of despair, you lose your senses. Black of your soul, head going white with thoughts of her. You trudge through the grey alone.

Contradicting thoughts are in you each waking moment. The contrast in your emotions is glaring and it makes your head hurt. You can’t tell what to feel.

Is it your fault for loving someone like her? Is it her fault for kissing you back?

Every cell in your body screams for her but you never want to speak to her again. You want to be furious with her. You still love her. What’s wrong with you? She’s sick and despicable, just like you are.

But you still love her. 

You want to feel those soft lips, jasmine drowning your thoughts, smooth skin caressing yours.

You know it’s wrong. Your love is wrong. 

Everything is a blur.

It’s all her fault. Still, 

It’s all yours.

{—•—}

It’s strange. The night is cold. Yena is warm but it’s not the same. Somehow, you stumble out of the taxi with wobbly steps and half a mind. The moment is intoxicating and you’re not sure if it’s just the alcohol in your system. Her hand gripping yours is warm as she leads the way, fingers laced. 

Why, did it feel like you’d let go? 

It’s cold so her lips are chapped. Citrus fills your lungs. It’s not the same fingers tracing the outline of your face. It’s not the same smooth skin on yours. She’s warm, but it’s not the same. 

Almost the same. She makes no effort to open her door, reminding you of her, again. Again. Love songs on repeat, a broken record.

The taste of soju is on her tongue, not red wine. Citrus, not jasmine. Yena, not Minjoo.

She’s not Minjoo. It’s not the same. 

They’re not the same.

Minjoo is just two floors away. The thought would seem bizarre if she was in any other state of mind—but what if Minjoo chanced upon the two of you? What if she saw? She was the one to kiss you back. What would she feel? You want the flames to hurt. If you’re going to burn out, it should be explosive. You want it to hurt.

But does Chaewon really want that?

Yena pulls away. The air around them feels hot. She looks into her eyes for a moment. 

Minjoo is only two floors away. 

Chaewon sighs. She watches Yena search for her keys, fiddling with the lock. “Unnie.”

There’s no way she’d see them, but still. She can’t get that out of her mind. It’s not right. They keep piling up, contradictions. She can’t let Minjoo see her like this. 

“I think I should go.”

It’s the onset of summer. Hours ago, they felt the heat from the burning sun but the night is cold. “Oh, okay.”

All you do is make things worse. You’re letting another relationship go up in flames. You can never do anything right, can you?

Minjoo. It’s only two floors. The stairwell is long and winding and each step she takes reminds her of that night. Two floors down, Chaewon can’t bring herself to step forward into the hallway. It’s only ten feet away. There’s nothing to do but stare at her feet rooted to the ground. 

She’s only ten feet away. There’s nothing to do but stare at her door, thinking of the night they had kissed until she was sick of it.

{—•—}

They’re not the same.

It doesn’t take three weeks for them to talk again. Yena calls her a day later and nothing about it is awkward.

“I’m sorry, unnie. I don’t think we should... I just—I can’t right now.”

Both of their personalities were rather calming, though. The woman looks at her with no contempt, a peculiar warmth in her eyes. “It’s okay.”

Chaewon fidgets. She wants to reach out but a moment’s hesitance gets the best of her. 

“Did you really… like me, or something?”

“Well… Yeah, I do…” Yena says, breaking her gaze. 

“Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize…”

The silence is overwhelming. 

You ed it up again, didn’t you? You can never do anything right. Yena brings a hand to your shoulder, Chaewon feels another sigh build up. 

“...I have feelings for someone else.” The grip on her shoulder grows lax. Her hand runs across the expanse of your back. “Is it Minjoo?”

Your vision blurs for a second, sharp exhales fill the space of your words. You look away.

“It’s okay, I’ll get over it… But I’m worried about you, Chae.”

“Why?” You ask, but you know. It’s because you look so pitiable. Pathetic. A useless idiot who can’t do anything. “You haven’t been speaking to Minjoo lately, have you?”

“Listen,” Yena calls, “You’re not yourself these days.”

You know. Chaewon knows. What can she do about it? How can she remain fighting herself every single day? Your lethargy seems to reach the woman, her face dulls with each word. 

“And Minjoo, she isn’t doing any better… I don’t know what happened between you two, but I think you should try talking it out…?”

Maybe you should.

You don’t, of course. Why would you? 

Your days are static. Yena’s presence helps you tune out of it for a while, but how long could she spend time with you? 

In the end, Chaewon’s stuck in the same place, lonely nights with her thoughts and the awful emotions in her apartment. She’s lost in a circle. 

Days continue to pass by, the sun rises and sets. Was it just to spite her? Was it just to remind her that she can’t do anything about anything?  

You aren’t the person you used to be. The seconds passing by feel pointless. Your life is consumed by pointless things, degrading into something worthless. She doesn’t know how to change. She doesn’t know if change will ever come. The light, flames, fires, and change, they seem so far away.

{—•—}

Minjoo was a strong-headed person. It didn’t seem like that at first glance and to be honest, it was partly true at best: but it didn’t change the fact that she was one of the most stubborn people Chaewon had known. It wasn’t from arrogance or pride. She was just extremely rooted in her beliefs sometimes. Chaewon thought that was stupid.

It did her more harm than good because Minjoo was also an easily overwhelmed person. Mild inconvenience was met with tears and difficult thoughts, Minjoo was often confused, unsure of what to do, unsure of herself. When they were together—when they spent time together, obstinacy and self-doubt weren’t as prevalent, but she knew.

Minjoo was that kind of person. 

The type to suffer alone. Unable to ask for help beyond the second time because she feared being a burden. Minjoo felt like she had to face the world alone. Like she had to take it all upon herself. Minjoo was an idiot like that: emotional and sensitive and adamant and determined.

If Minjoo was struggling as she was, she was probably dealing with it better than Chaewon. Yes, she was emotional and sensitive and whatever, but she was strong, nonetheless. 

What were you planning to do when you saw Minjoo? You wanted to lash out and be furious. You wanted to incinerate the last of everything you felt for her. Flare up, make it hurt. You wanted to burn it all.

You didn’t expect it would be like this.

You see Minjoo. It’s supposed to be an evening spent gaming with Yena, but she sees Minjoo. Ten feet away, paused in front of her door as Chaewon stands at the hallway’s edge. Minjoo with her keys hanging from that damned door, heavy tote bags weighing down on her wrists. The fires in her chest seem to extinguish at once. It feels like she’ll turn to ashes the moment Minjoo looks at her. Something — something, she doesn’t know what it is, it settles in her chest watching Minjoo fumble with the bags. 

It’s an insignificant moment. So ordinary that it hurts. There’s nothing special about it, she didn’t think they’d meet this way.

She watches, groceries scatter across the floor when her wrists tilt, keys sway in the light wind. Minjoo was an expressive person so it was out of place to see no exasperation on her face at that moment. 

Minjoo looks exhausted. She looks like the person you see in the mirror every morning. Cold eyes scan the floor, her face is blank and it sends something through Chaewon’s chest.

Minjoo was easily overwhelmed, so she just stood there, unmoving. She’s frustrated by such an insignificant little thing that you feel the slightest tugs at your heart.

There is no fire or flames or rage in the ten steps you take. You take them without any thought, almost against your own will. You can’t set it ablaze even if you wanted to. The sight of her douses every fire filling you with hatred. 

You’ll turn to ashes the moment she looks in your eyes, so you don’t. Crouching to the ground, you pick up the things gathered at her feet. What the are you doing? You can’t look up. She takes a few steps back, is she shocked? 

Shaky breaths, heavy shoulders. The weight of reality dawns on you as you rise, not meeting her gaze.

“Unnie...”

You turn into ashes the moment she speaks. Chaewon looks into her eyes, her reflection. 

Minjoo is an idiot, easily overwhelmed and endlessly stubborn. She doesn’t even know how to care for herself. Bothered by something so stupid. It’s almost tears in her eyes but Chaewon can’t be sure. 

Minjoo looks the same. Heart-shaped lips and deep brown eyes. Pink on her cheeks from the surge of emotions overtaking the two of them. Chaewon wanted to look away, but she couldn’t.

In the same place they were four weeks ago, they stand facing each other. 

“...Minjoo.”

-

this chapter was harder to write than i expected idk why...
but only eight months since an update this time that's an improvement right
the themes here are anger and depress!on so next chapter will probably be grief / beyond grief as an epilogue? not sure yet but i'll think about it in four months